


Isn’t It Funny How Obvious and Oblivious Are So Close

by Lynchy8



Series: OMG Check Please fic [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter References, M/M, oblivious house mates, obvious hidden relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7180409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/pseuds/Lynchy8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jack and Bitty got away with it (and the one time they didn't) featuring tickle fights, a harry potter argument, and a house full of oblivious hockey players.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isn’t It Funny How Obvious and Oblivious Are So Close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purple_embroidery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_embroidery/gifts).



> Greetings, gentle readers! This came about because I was bored at work, and Sarah and i were talking about Jack and Bitty being in a secret relationship, but they keep giving themselves away in the most obvious manner. Luckily for them the lovely hockey bros they live with are all the most oblivious beings alive.
> 
> I don't believe there is anything that needs tagging, but if anyone has any requests please let me know.

V  
_Hearts and Flour_

It started out innocently enough; just another afternoon in the Haus kitchen, and Bitty was humming along to the music coming out of his phone while sprinkling more water on his dough mix. Jack was at the table, reading through his notes, but he couldn’t help but look up every so often, smiling at the way Bitty bopped along to… it wasn’t Beyoncé – Jack certainly knew how to recognise _those_ songs by now. This thing between them, whatever it was, was still so tentative and new, it was nice to take these small quiet moments.

Deciding it was time for a break, Jack pushed back from the table and headed towards the fridge in search of a drink. He rolled his shoulders, and then raised his arms in a full body stretch, and totally failed to notice Bitty sneaking up behind him. Just as he arched into his stretch, small fingers found their way to his ribs, and suddenly Jack was vaulting across the kitchen.

“Crisse!” he yelped, looking at Bitty, who was giggling behind his hands.

“Oh, Jack!” he exclaimed, and Jack did not like that evil little smile spreading over Bitty’s face one little bit. “Are you ticklish?”

Jack took another defensive step back, eyeing Bitty suspiciously. “No…” But even to his ears it sounded more like a question. Meanwhile Bitty’s eyes were lit up like a cat stalking a canary, and Jack felt extremely bird-shaped at that moment. 

“Bittle…” he said in a warning tone, but it was no good, at dammit Bittle was fast. Even though Jack tried to get the table between him and Bittle the tickle fiend, he still ended up almost bent double in the kitchen, wheezing and puffing while wicked fingers tickled him into submission.

“Y’all give in?” Bitty was laughing at him, a light sound that left Jack even more breathless than the damn tickling. 

“Alright, alright, I give!” he gasped, and Bitty went back to his dough looking satisfied. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bitty was putting the final touches to the lattice pie crust when Jack stole a quick kiss before heading on out to his late afternoon seminar. As he left the Haus, he called a greeting to Shitty coming the other way. 

“Oh hey, Jack, hold up!” Shitty did an about turn, following him down the path. “You got a little something…” he reached up to brush the seat of Jack’s pants. Jack tried to twist round to see what it was.

“It’s ok, I gotcha,” Shitty grinned. “Bro’s don’t let bro’s go out… hang on.” Shitty ceased dusting Jack off, holding his hand up for inspection. “Dude… is this flour?”

Jack blinked at the light dusting of what was unmistakably flour on Shitty’s hand.

“Must’ve brushed past something in the kitchen,” Jack muttered. Shitty narrowed his eyes, but then shrugged his shoulders because it was the Haus and it was Shitty and there were way more important things to worry about than how Jack got flour on his ass.

Jack exhaled. He wasn’t ashamed. But it felt like he spent his entire life in the spotlight. He wanted to keep this, keep Bitty, as just his for as long as they possibly could. With a final check for any other incriminating cooking ingredients, Jack jogged off towards his seminar.

+

IV  
_I’ll Have a Look Inside Your Mind and Tell Where You Belong_

“Look just give them a chance,” Bitty implored. “It’s just a short book,” he held up Sorcerer's Stone innocently, ignoring the shelf behind him practically groaning under the weight of Order of the Phoenix, Half Blood Prince, and Deathly Hallows. Jack gave him a flat look in response.

“Can’t I just watch the movies?” Jack frowned, and then startled as Bitty gently smacked his arm with the book in question.

“Don’t you be lazy, now, Mr Zimmermann,” Bitty scolded. Y’all gotta form your own images and headcanons.” He thrust the book into Jack’s hands.

“Head what now?” Jack muttered, perusing the cover with a mixture of interest and suspicion.

“Come on, Jack,” and damn Bitty for raising those eyes at him, coz he knows Jack can’t refuse him anything when he’s pulling the sad southern puppy eyes. “Please?” 

Friday night rolled round, and Shitty barged his way into Jack’s room through their shared bathroom. “Come on Jack!” he hollered. “It’s Friday night. Put your books away!”

There was a pulsing beat coming from downstairs and Shitty was wearing sunglasses. Jack steadfastly ignored him.

“I’m at a good bit, go away,” he intoned, not even looking up. “Hermione is about to do something clever.”

Shitty blinked at him. “Is that… _Harry Potter_?” Jack hummed an affirmative, still not looking up.

“My man!” he exclaimed in a reverent whisper, bowing out backwards as though unwilling to turn his back on The Prisoner of Azkaban.

On Saturday morning when Jack came down to breakfast, there seemed to be a small war going on in the kitchen. He was used to Nursey and Dex sniping at one another, and sure enough they were glaring daggers, and Jack caught the tail end of Nursey’s muttered “… ginger haired Malfoy, if ever there was one.” He only just about turned his snort into a cough.

Meanwhile, down the table, Holster was in full flow. “All I’m saying is that jocks are always in Gryffindor, that’s the rules and I don’t make ‘em.” 

Holster raised his hand for a high-five from Ransom. Shitty on the other hand was on his feet, leaning over the table like he was about to vault it. “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” he bellowed. “I’M A FUCKING HUFFLEPUFF AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT.”

“Morning!” Bitty called out cheerfully, mixing a bowl of pancake batter over by the stove. Jack eyed the brawling mass of angry hockey players still arguing at the table, before taking his seat. Bitty placed a glass of orange juice down on the table, giving him a soft smile before returning to pancake duty. Jack took a sip and then cleared his throat.

“I think I’m a Ravenclaw?”

Silence fell on the table as everyone stared round at their captain. Then Shitty reached across the table to punch Holster in the arm. “I TOLD you he was reading fucking Harry Potter!”

Noise exploded across the table. “Man, I never thought we’d see the day!” Ransom exclaimed. “How did you get into Harry Potter? Did someone reshelve in in the wrong section? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read a non-school book.” 

“No, wait, is _A History of Magic_ now on the syllabus?” Holster chirped. 

Jack opened his mouth to object, but found himself saying “Bitty leant them to me” instead. Attention turned to a blushing Eric R Bittle who looked as though he wanted to apparate out of the Haus kitchen, or at least cast an invisibility charm.

“Bits, you fantastic motherfucker!” Shitty exploded, hopping across the kitchen to clap him on the back. “How did you do it?” 

“Oh, well,” Bitty blushed. Because he couldn’t very well explain that they’d been lying on Bitty’s bed in just their shorts, and they’d just been talking about everything and nothing, and Bitty had turned to Jack and asked him what his House was. The fact that Jack had looked back at him completely blankly had been the only thing that could have gotten Bitty to leave that bed, even if he was hopping back seconds later, book in hand. “I just said please,” he mumbled.

“Of course, you know what this means?” Holster was grinning. 

“Movie Marathon!” Ransom, Chowder, Dex and Nursey chorused at the same time, all high-fiving enthusiastically.

None of them noticed the silent conversation going on between Bitty and Jack, who were communicating through a series of relieved facial expression, shrugs, and small smiles.

+

III  
_The Imitation Game_

“Right,” Jack looked round at all of them, game-face on, grim with intent. The whole team was hanging on his every word, ready to go out on the ice and win, dammit.

“What I’m going to need y’all to do…”

There was a cough and all heads snapped round to Chowder who at once unsuccessfully tried to melt through the changing room floor.

“Sorry,” he wilted under Jack’s unimpressed glare. “But you said “y’all”.”

Jack opened his mouth, paused, closed it again, and then final sputtered “I said “you all”. What I’m going to need _you all_ to do.”

“Dude, you said y’all” Nursey joined in, looking amused. Holster and Ransom nodded in agreement.

Jack looked round, deliberately avoiding Bitty’s gaze, especially as he appeared to be trying to suffocate himself by holding his breath, cheeks puffed out and face bright red, instead looking to Shitty for help. Shitty crossed his arms and shrugged, in a clear gesture of not getting involved.

“I know what I said,” Jack squared his shoulders, turning back to the giggling group of hockey players, the atmosphere completely ruined.

“Just get out there and score, eh?”

+

II  
_Pay No Attention To That Man Behind The Curtain_

“Hey,” Shitty pushed at Bitty’s door, having found Jack’s room empty and automatically heading across the landing. “Have you seen Jack? I thought I heard his voice.”

Bittle was sitting at his desk, laptop open so probably in the middle of one of his vlogs. He twisted round in his chair resting his chin on his hand and looking up at Shitty with that fucking sweet polite expression that was 100% sincere, and yet still managed to convey just how much he wished Shitty hadn’t invaded his space just right at that second. Not that he was going to bring it up or kick Shitty out. Bless him.

“Nope, haven’t seen him,” Bitty squeaked. Ok that was unusual, Shitty mused. But then it was Bitty; the whole package was unusual.

“Huh, never mind.” Shitty made his exit and jogged down the stairs.

Bitty exhaled and then counted slowly to ten, waiting to hear the front door of the Haus slam.

“Oh my GOSH, Jack,” he breathed, rolling back in his chair and helping Jack out from where he was crouched under Bitty’s desk; and curse that boy, he was grinning broadly which was a good look on him. Like he hadn’t had his hands dangerously high on Bitty’s thighs _thank you very much._

Jack had only just sunk to his knees, all wicked and full of promise, and then Shitty had come banging up the Haus stairs yelling Jack’s name, and they’d had seconds for Jack to dive for a hiding spot, and for Bitty to try to regulate his breathing and look perfectly normal for when Shitty inevitably checked the room across the hall after establishing Jack’s room was empty.

All the while Shitty had stood in the doorway - and it had honestly felt like an eternity - Bitty had been horribly aware of Jack’s hands creeping higher, and that meant Bitty imagining where Jack’s mouth was in conjunction with… everything else. And then Jack had pressed a kiss to the inside of Bitty’s thigh and he’d almost lost it right there, with Shitty staring at him with a bemused expression.

“Gonna get you back, Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty grumbled, but he let Jack situate himself back between Bitty’s thighs, looking up at him with those wide blue eyes.

“Promise?”

+

I  
_A Problem Shared_

Jack kissed across Bitty’s jawline, enjoying the way he arched into Jack’s touch, making these cute little gasping noises that Jack wanted to recreate over and over. He skirted his fingers down Bitty’s side, enjoying how Bitty shivered beneath his touch, and it was tempting to chirp him about being ticklish, but Bitty was flushed and looking up at Jack and…

“Bitty?” Holster’s voice cut through the room, and mercifully the guy knocked rather than just walking in, and what was up with the lack of locks in this place?! Instinct kicked in and Jack rolled off the bed and dropped silently to the floor. 

Bitty straightened up, grabbing a book off the bedside table, before calling out for Holster to come in. He knew he probably looked hot and flushed, and hopefully Holster would make some sort of assumption about that and back out at speed.

“Hey, you busy?” 

Bitty was tempted to say yes, but he could almost feel his Ma smack him upside the head for such a thought.

“What can I all do for you?” he said instead, putting the book down – and only then noticing that it was upside down anyway. Not that it mattered, because Holster wasn’t even looking at him.

“Hypothetically speaking,” and Bitty didn’t think he’d ever seen Holster look so awkward. “If there was a Canadian bro with a scientific leaning that someone might want to, like, buy a birthday present for…”

Light dawned, because of course everyone was talking about Ransom’s birthday next week. 

“Like, I googled “what do you buy for Canadian Scientists” but like, nothing helped which… that has never happened, by the way.”

“Oh honey,” Bitty sympathised. 

“And Shitty said I should get him drunk. “There was a quiet snort from the carpet, but Holster was far enough away not to catch it. 

“Well, I guess I’d bake them a pie,” Bitty winced, but Holster smiled at him anyway. 

Bitty became aware of a tugging on his foot. He glanced down to where Jack was lying on his bedroom floor, half obscured by a blanket. He was mouthing something that looked like “egg”. Jack mimed taking a drink.

“Keg,” Bitty said out loud, before looking back up to Holster who was staring back, puzzled. 

“Keg?”

“Yeah, the last kegster…” Bitty kept an eye on Jack’s miming out of the corner of his eye. “Did you get any ideas then?”

Holster made a face and Bitty didn’t blame him because the kegster had been a really messy night. Down on the floor, Jack was scribbling something hastily on the back of what looked like next week’s team plan. Bitty squinted but it quite honestly didn’t make a blind bit of sense to him.

“The… Klein Bottle?”

It was a relief to see Holster break into a grin. “Aw, yeah the Klein Bottle! Jeez, well remembered, Bitty, I didn’t even think you were there for that bit.”

“Ha ha, yeah,” Bitty chuckled, trying to subtly glance over the edge of the bed for any more pearls of wisdom from the hockey captain on his floor, especially as he had absolutely no idea what a Klein Bottle was, or why it might be of interest to Ransom.

“Maybe you could google that, see if they all do anything that Ransom might like.”

Holster lit up like sunshine. “Cheers, Bitty! Knew I could count on you.”

As the door closed, Jack emerged from under the bed. “Bittle, there is nothing under your bed. Not even an abandoned sock.” He seemed almost offended. “I bet you even vacuum under there?”

“Well of course, what do you take me for?!” Bitty sniffed, because not everyone had to live the frat house dream. “And what in the heck is a Klein Bottle?”

Jack smiled softly at the memory. Ransom had been several sheets to the wind and had been getting very starry eyed and enthusiastic about some mathematician who had designed a bottle with only one geometric surface. Jack had squirrelled it away, guessing it might be useful for future reference.

“Do you think he suspected anything?” Bitty looked anxious, but Jack just shuffled his way back on the bed, curling up against Bitty’s warm side. 

“I think you did just fine. Now, where were we?”

A week later, at Ransom’s birthday drinks (“Ransom’s Swawesome Birthday-rama!”) he unwrapped a Klein Bottle bottle opener, with much enthusiasm from the birthday boy.

“Holy SHIT, bro!” Ransom exclaimed, looking at Holster with wide eyes. “Where did you find this?! Wow, dude.”

Holster mouthed a thank you across the room, to where Bitty was sitting tucked in next to Jack, who elbowed him in the side and winked. Not that anybody noticed.

+

_And the One Time Their Luck Ran Out_

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!” Bitty vaulted down the stairs and into the kitchen, pulling open the oven door only to be greeted by a cloud of steam and smoke, and the unmistakable smell of burnt pie crust. 

Thirty minutes; Bitty swore again as he grabbed his mitts to reach into the oven. He’d made the grave error of telling Jack that they had thirty minutes while the apple pie baked, and Jack Zimmermann had just seen that as a challenge. Bitty had even set an alarm on his phone, but when it had gone off, Bitty had been, well, somewhat distracted. Only in the post-coital haze did he remember the poor pie being cremated in the Haus kitchen downstairs. Pulling on a pair of shorts and the first t-shirt that came to hand on the bedroom floor, he’d run downstairs but it was all in vain.

“ _Fuck ostie_!” Bitty slammed the pie dish down onto the cooling rack a little harder than was perhaps necessary.

“Eric Roberto Bittle!” Shitty stuck his head round the kitchen door, voice raised in a faux-southern drawl. “I do declare, you kiss your ma with that there mouth?” 

Bitty raised a questioning eyebrow because Roberto? Really? Shitty just chuckled at him, strolling casually towards the fridge and shaking his head, tutting in mock disapproval.

“Oh boy, you’re starting to sound just like…”

Bitty saw the exact moment that the penny dropped; saw Shitty’s eyes focus pin-sharp, before looking Bitty up and down like he was seeing him for the first time, and Bitty could already feel the blush painting his cheeks under the force of such scrutiny.

“Is that…?” Shitty narrowed his eyes at the suspiciously large shirt adorning Bitty’s person, and then leaned back, raising his hands to his mouth and making a high pitched yelp. “Oh my GOSH!”

Bitty winced.

“You and Jack!”

“Who and Jack?” Ransom and Holster appeared out of nowhere, goggling into the kitchen. 

“What’s with all the yelling?” Bitty had no idea where Chowder, Dex and Nursey had come from, they didn’t even _live_ here, for crying out loud.

“Bitty and Jack are _doing the do_!” There was a pause as everyone took in Shitty’s announcement.

“Oh my GOD, Shits, NO ONE says ‘doing the do’ anymore!” Holster facepalmed, and just like that, all hell broke loose. Ransom held up his hand for a fist bump, and everyone seemed to be yelling at once, and Bitty was quite sure he would never actually stop blushing from the sheer mortification of this moment.

“Bitty!”

Silence fell as Jack appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a pair of boxers and not much else, a suspicious bruise blossoming on his throat, not to mention the Eric R Bittle™ shaped fingerprints in his shoulders. 

“You coming back to bed?” and Jack Zimmermann, _Jack Zimmermann_ , needed to be fired for the smirk he shot down the stairs at that moment. Bitty felt all the breath leave his body.

He turned to the gaggle of gawping hockey players in the hallway, and winked. 

“Help yourself to pie, fellas,” he drawled smartly, before strutting up the stairs to where Jack was waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> The Klein Bottle, if you're not a maths nerd, is a very cool concept and there IS a [bottle opener](https://www.bathsheba.com/math/klein/) and it has Ransom written all over it.
> 
> The Subtitle to part II is a reference to the wizard of oz. 
> 
> I enjoyed writing this - it was fun. If you fancy saying hi, I'd love to hear from you, either here or on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lynchy8).


End file.
